Sandy Supposes....

There's A Pandemic?

Mon. Apr. 27th Prompt
by Fivesixer (656)

What do you think you'd be doing today if this pandemic had never happened?

         

         

         Has this several weeks of self-isolation been a dream? Have we all been swept up in a low-budget disaster film? Are we free to continue with our 'usuals' whatever they may be? No more Groundhog Day?

         Hmmm... I'd most likely be succumbing to the allure of a sunshiny day and the eagerly anticipated-at-long-last disappearance of the snow. It might finally be springtime and for a brief period, the voracious blackflies and mosquitos have not invaded our tranquility. I'd feel motivated to step outdoors and soak me up some Vitamin D. Granted, I'd be squinting, and second-guessing why I hadn't refused to wear socks and shoes in favour of my long-neglected flip-flops. I'd be shucking my jacket and denying the cool breeze.

         I'd most likely be enjoying a lunch date with my younger sister. Of course, we'd be nattering away and deflecting the overtures of a waitress intent on ushering us out before the supper rush. Yes, we do have that much to discuss.

         I could drive out to my seasonal campsite and inspect my camper. I'd satisfy myself that it had weathered another interminable winter as I opened windows and aired it out. Cautiously, I'd pull open cupboards and peer into nooks and crannies. Wielding a broom, I'd evict all manner of squatters, spiders, ants, and mice. Some inevitably take advantage of my absence to set up creepy-crawly bed and breakfasts.

          I'd struggle with the lock on the shed door before I knocked on that door to alert the flying squirrel-squatter that I wished to enter her winter abode for a site inspection. She's never been much of a housekeeper and she will occasionally pad her sleeping quarters with stuffing excised from lawn furniture cushions. As I gingerly step inside, I will spot the sleek groundhog ambling out from under the deck. I hope not to find a sticky oozing puddle in the drinks' fridge because someone neglected to remove one last can of soda.

         In the yard, I will bend over too many times to count and retrieve fallen tree branches that I pile in the firepit. I refer to this as playing pick up sticks. My efforts create a structure similar to a beaver dome. The inaugural campfire will have been set and ready to light.

         If I'm feeling particularly energetic, I'll begin raking the dense carpet of leaves. Once again, I'll marvel that 'my' trees are still standing upright and budding with tender new greenery. How can they possibly shake off that many branches and leaves and still be alive?

         Perhaps, I'll be conscious of the passing hours and hurry back home just in time to greet my grandgiggle Emily arriving for an after school visit. She'll request that we make and bake a chocolate chip pizza for a snack. After some chatting, she will ask to play on my computer 'cause internet access is spotty at best in her house.

         Ah, I miss my B.C. life.